Even I could see that Mrs Lovett was becoming awfully possessive over Papa. Anthony tried to persuade me otherwise, but I wasn't dumb. I knew very well that I was seeing less and less of Papa, and it was because of her.
I could see that Toby felt much the same way. He no longer was forced into the same room as us, but instead opened the door quietly as Anthony spoke to me, sometimes reading a book or showing me more of his tricks. Toby wouldn't say a word, and we didn't think it necessary to speak to him either. Instead, he would simply sit silently in the corner, or when he felt brave, by Anthony's side on the bed, smiling as stories were told.
Slowly, it seemed that he had become part of our small little family. I liked to think of him as my little brother. To my knowledge, I don't suppose I had had one.
Soon enough, Anthony noticed that it was not apparent that Mrs Lovett and Papa would appear at any time soon, and departed for a short while to the market. I begged to be allowed to go with him, but Anthony was firm enough in his answer.
"You've got to stay well rested."
"Why should I be?"
"Because you've slept so little already and this is what happens," he said triumphantly, kissing my forehead and turning to the door. I pouted, folding my arms. Toby started at me, smiling gently.
"Where's Papa?" I asked myself aloud.
"With Mrs Lovett," Toby said quietly. I almost jumped up when he spoke.
"I thought you didn't speak!"
"I'm sorry, ma'am," he whispered, looking down at the floor.
"You can speak?"
"Well, yes, ma'am, I can."
"Then why don't you speak?"
"I am, ma'am."
"Why do you keep calling me that?" At this, Toby seemed truly confused, although slightly amused.
"Calling you what, ma'am?"
"That! My name's Johanna."
"I know that," Toby said, almost defensively.
"Then call me it. Anthony does, Papa does, everyone does!"
My voice was not raised in anger, but instead in a slight enthusiasm. I could not help it. I had had very little else to be enthusiastic about. Toby smiled slightly, and immediately I was uplifted. It had been a while since I had seen the little boy smile.
Anthony did not take much longer than I had expected him to be, although the time had gone by quickly enough now that Toby was willing to speak to me. He was still quiet, but I spoke on enough for the both of us.
"One of these days you honestly are going to talk the hind leg off a donkey, Johanna," Anthony warned me, chuckling.
"Why would I want to do that?" I questioned, but Anthony did not listen, and instead changed the subject quickly.
"I'm sorry," he said quickly, double taking slightly before this as he saw Toby sitting still on the floor. "I utterly forgot about you for a moment. Has there been any-"
"Trouble?" Toby asked, finishing the sentence.
"Well, yes."
"None," he said brightly, smiling at me. I smiled back, not knowing why in all honesty.
"Toby's been good as gold," I said robustly, wrapping my arms around Anthony's.
"I'm sure he has been."
"Anthony," I said all of a sudden, thinking. "Why don't we have a cat?"
Anthony blinked twice, then chuckled, and the subject was laid to rest.
He he, the shortest chapter in existence in this story! Just something to randomly say 'Hey! Don't forget Toby!' I just got fed up of being Johanna and wanted to be Sweeney again. You've gotta admit, he's more entertaining, right?